


Senpai

by Falconette



Category: Free!
Genre: F/M, First Time, NOSF, Reader-Insert, older partner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 12:13:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11531982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falconette/pseuds/Falconette
Summary: Makoto's first time





	Senpai

## SENPAI

 _“Tachibana Makoto, 21, PE student”_ stood beneath the photo on a part-time job application my boss, the club manager, handed to me one day. The shaggy-haired youth with a gullible face qualified for teaching the youngest members their first swimming basics even though you could still safely call it ‘floating’ at that point.

I watched him swim and I watched him work. His style and build were impressive, but I saw why he forfeited a professional career. There was no competitiveness inside him, he just didn’t want to win that bad and neither did he hate to lose that bad. The meekness in the way he talked, the consideration with which he moved out of everybody's way made him perfect for working with kids, though, who fell in love with him once they realized the looming figure was in fact a gentle giant.

He and several other students who used to be in swim clubs in high-school came to the pool as part timers, when their college obligations allowed absence, so that made us colleagues. He was helping out two times a week with the kiddies and seemed to handle them very well. Young men usually don’t even notice children and dislike working with them, but Makoto turned out to be their favorite coach. As I was the one in charge of showing him around, he became a sort of a protégée and I his, well, senpai.

Makoto was diligent and humble the way only boys from the countryside are. Polite without a trace of forced formality when he addressed staff members with utmost respect, but there was nothing timid in his gazes I caught from time to time. He was not the first part-timer to sexualize me - after all this was a pool where we walked half naked most of the time - but it was the first one that tickled something within me. Other boys had been brazen and greedy, I could tell they would be all over me if I had so much as winked at them just to have something to brag about, but I really could not tell what Makoto’s deal was.

First of all, he was far too good looking not to have caught eyes of females around him already. Girls in his high school, former swim club, college, building he lived in… heck, this was Tokyo, pretty and assertive women were everywhere and he was a handsome young male, blooming into adulthood. He must have raised flags all over.

But something in clumsiness that seemed to possess his hands whenever I caught and held those glances of his hinted at purity which was, in this day and age, so precious. And such a turn on.

Clearly, I wasn’t thinking straight.

I would find reasons to stay behind on days he worked at the pool, hanging out after rest of the staff had departed, delighted to find he would linger too. We would talk about training methods, about swimming, the club. He seemed genuinely interested in coaching and knew a lot about techniques. We would share an occasional chocolate bar the club kept in stock for kids. We would joke, laugh and eventually he stopped addressing me so formally. After a while, the conversations would steer towards his hometown, his friends. Once, forgetting himself, he admitted how lonely he was in the big city, blushing profusely afterwards but was in no rush to leave.

I could argue it was the unmistakably manly broadness of his shoulders or the way I had to look up to address him or the way he moved and carried heavy equipment bags with no effort that made me disregard the fact he was younger, inexperienced, a complication waiting to happen and start regarding him as a prospect object of lust. But there was also this _thing_ about him, that singled him out among the others - he never tried to make himself look strong or cool - and isn’t gentle persistence of waves the force that wears down cliffs and stones? How could a woman’s heart, then, resist?

I knew that no one but us was in the building that evening, and so did Makoto. Still, he insisted on helping me sort pull buoys that will get promptly scattered in the morning training session anyway. It didn’t seem that he would make the first step, hell I didn’t even know if he wanted to _go_ anywhere with this, so I simply moved into his personal space and pointedly smiled. He shifted but didn’t move away, his breath catching. He didn’t move forward either, looking at me like a rabbit into oncoming headlights. Petrified and fascinated.

“So, umm…” I said when the silence became too awkward, “Do you have someone?”

“No.” Makoto breathed quickly and emphatically, like the very thought was inconceivable.

“Oh.” I commented neutrally, giving him a chance to react. He looked at me for a long moment with a mixture of awe, excitement and indecisiveness, his mouth half open. Maybe he wasn’t interested after…

Makoto pressed his lips to mine with his eyes squeezed shut, gently but little hastily, like he was afraid I would move out of his reach. His mouth was dry and hot and felt nice despite shudders that ran through his body. This was clearly not his first kiss, but he was still young enough to feel that thunder strike when you kiss a stranger.

It was good. Eventually he relaxed and let his instincts lead his lips, tongue and fingers, brushing them tenderly over my face and hair now that he dared to finally touch them. He was a gentle, thorough kisser and I ended up anticipating our afternoon shifts and petting bouts that would last and last.

Whatever we did when no one was watching did not reflect in our usual interactions. He still addressed me with honorifics, I didn’t talk to him about my private life and we never defined our relationship. In a way, its nature was a secret secret also to us. It was the best that way.

Our trysts would start chaste and innocent, pecks and playful bites on lips, but as we grew more relaxed with each other, I started exploring his body, hiding my hands under his shirt and caressing the hills and nooks I watched all day in the water. He would let me, getting used to my touch and the feel of someone’s fingers on his skin, becoming plainly aroused without ever asking me to do something about it.

When he would wander across my skin, it was always with hesitation, as if he expected to be scolded at any moment. After all, I was his senior colleague and he was definitely crossing a line. A dozen lines.

I loved to see him fight with his upbringing and properness, but I let him take his own sweet time. It took several weeks before he finally indulged and squeezed my breasts like ripe peaches, cupping them with his long, spread fingers. It was an important, solemn moment for him, a landmark, making my heart somehow warm. His devotion made every sweet progress so special.

In time, his body started pushing against mine more persistently, touching me more hungrily. There was a growing lust in his eyes, hands and sighs, silently asking for my permission, for guidance.    

After all, I _was_ his senpai.

So one day at dusk I pointedly smiled and I took him into a storage room with clean towels neatly piled in heaps, windowless and remote, a perfect safe heaven where no one would look for us at this hour. As we walked down the halls his hand was squeezing mine to keep himself from trembling but he didn’t let go. We have visited the spot before and he knew what to do, crouching to swiftly create a soft and padded nest for our bodies to lounge in. Leaning on the doorframe, I observed his back muscles ripple and skip while he arranged the towels, again baffled how such a young thing could look so… manly, wondering if I was taking a step into the right direction even though I knew he was no kid and could make his own decisions.

He turned to me and smiled nervously, guessing my thoughts. He could do that, especially if he was emotionally invested; I have never met a more emphatic person. His green eyes were big and dark in dim light of a single lightbulb, anxious to - in his usual way - do everything right. He noticed me not quite entering the room and knotted his eyebrows so I went down on my knees beside him, kissing the worried expression away.

I let him sink into the union, relishing the warmth of his big arms around me, the gentleness of his caresses. When he would forget to think and would give in completely, nothing else existed or mattered. He made the sweet moments we shared and me special, like the only girl in the world.

I wanted to give him something in return.

My hands lifted his shirt slowly and persistently, pulling it over his head and making his damp, unruly hair even shaggier. He half-opened his eyes, the irises wide and unfocused, gave me a pale smile and slowly reached out for my top. I helped him by wriggling out of my bra, then pressed against his warm stomach. We faced each other on our knees, joined in an embrace while his palm drew lulling patterns across my back, its wide surface pleasantly rough. He was waiting on me, hesitant yet starved.

In complete silence I let my fingers untangle strings that held his shorts around his narrow hips, pulling them down together with his briefs. I could feel his chest shudder and hold breath in anticipation. He was very nervous. When I would touch and feel him up, his penis would be all but bursting out, straining the fabric separating his skin from mine. Now he was semi hard and not looking very enthusiastic at all.

“I am… sorry… This has never happened before…” Makoto’s broken whisper pleaded, the panic bubbling in his tone.

“Shhh…” I said, pressing my lips against his to stop the riptide of distraught word as they would only do more harm. Of course he would be nervous; I was more experienced and he was fretty by nature. “This is not a sport. We don’t count seconds or scores here. Let’s just do the things we like and what happens, happens.”  

“O-Okay.” Makoto obediently nodded, promptly starting to kiss me, but it took a while until he could get really into it. The difference was obvious and I didn’t rush it, allowing him to relax and really feel what was going on inside his body again.

In the meantime, I let him kiss and touch me thoroughly, glad to see his curiosity and lust slowly but surely triumph over his anxiety. Gradually, naturally, his caresses became less exploratory and more demanding, his kisses deeper and needier. I slid my palms blindly across his skin, where chlorine induced dryness was slowly becoming a sweaty, slick playground for my tongue and teeth. One of my hands took the precarious downward path between his abs, across his navel and feathery hair to his penis, now pointing confidently directly at me. I slid my fingers around its shaft and squeezed, making Makoto moan silently into my mouth.

It was hot and bulky, responding to my touches with pulsations, hardening in my hand. I tugged at it gently and Makoto’s embrace immediately became tighter and more urgent as he mewled incoherently between kisses. He was not used to someone else’s touch and was still getting dizzy with the pleasure it brought.

Suddenly, all I could think about was feeling him inside me.

I slid out of my shorts and motioned for him to lie beside me. Makoto’s body followed mechanically, driven by hormones and instincts, pulling in close to mine. He brushed my soft belly with his prick, a sensation arousing us both, so he moved in even closer, using his long arms to conquer every part of me he could reach, worshipping it. His erection was throbbing against my thighs, blindly looking for a way in, driving me and him crazy with anticipation. I let the tip squeeze between them to gates of the slippery tunnel of joy and he moaned more loudly as his sensitive tissue basked in the lubricating moisture.

Makoto broke off the kiss and looked at me with an expression I have never seen on him before; a mixture of pleading, embarrassment and arousal, the flushed face gleaming with perspiration.

“If even this feels so good,” he whispered in short breaths, helplessness tinting his words. “I am afraid how I’ll… perform inside…”

“Don’t be afraid to feel good.” I whispered back with a smile, running my fingers through his shaggy hair and eliciting a look of a complete surrender from him. His heart was pounding like a sledgehammer yet his gaze was perfectly calm. Wide eyed and emotional, he opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, then forced it shut again.

He was ready.

I slightly parted my thighs and he thrust his hips forward in a slow, careful motion, feeling his way in. I helped by adjusting my body’s position and letting him slowly relish the moment. Makoto fought to keep his eyes open, but the sensation proved to be too much. His mouth parted slightly to let out an almost painful sigh, a release of pressure accumulated for so long.

“Ooohhhhh…,” his chest reverberated, the sound more felt than heard in my body. I let him enter fully, the pleasant warmness of him inside me making my hips sway by themselves, pulling us more snugly closer.

We stayed like that for a while, just breathing.

Makoto half opened his eyes and studied me in serenity, just the two of us facing one another on soft cushion of towels. Fingers of his hand entwined with mine, slowly, like moving through water. I knew he was comfortable with the silence because he could be a real chatterbox when nervous, so I let the moment last. It was important for him.

When his loins got through to him, he started moving his hips again, testing the sensations every new discovery fired up in his body. He tried to kiss me, but things were moving too fast and getting out of his control too soon. His heart wanted him to keep pumping but his mind knew that would be a shortcut to a very underwhelming finale. Tipping that scale was a skill he yet had to master and taking care of me was simply beyond him at this stage so I let him experiment and experience his own body in a completely new way. It didn’t take very long for him to capitulate. After several bold and enthusiastic thrusts, his body suddenly became suspiciously still and rigid.

“Oh no, oh no”, Makoto rasped in quick, growingly louder breaths, edged with panic, “I don’t think I can stop myself from…”

“Then don’t”, I laughed and swung my hips in couple of gyrating moves that even more experienced men than Makoto would have trouble resisting, bringing forth the inevitable in him with such a force he painfully cried out.

“Nnnngggggggghhhh… hhh… hhh…” he panted with his eyes squeezed shut, catching his breath, his brow knotted in his trademark expression of embarrassment. ”I… I…”

“Don’t even think about apologizing. “ my low voice held the authority he never dared to challenge, so I deliberately used it to hush him.

He opened his eyes, the green orbs examining my face frantically and only then did he allow himself to lay back and faintly smile.

“How was it?” I asked, grinning widely at him, caressing the roundness of his powerful shoulder.

He took a deep breath. “It was beautiful.” he replied after a moment. “So much better and …,“ an embarrassed tone snuck into his voice again, “… intense than I thought it would be. I am sorry I didn’t…”

“Hey!” I held out a finger at him, mockingly scolding him.

Makoto smiled a bit wider, more relaxed now, nodding his head obediently and silently letting the experience sink in. I shared the moment and the embrace with him, feeling my own body still tremble with sweet anticipation of a release that would not come. I brushed my fingertips across his cooling body absentmindedly, thinking how this will change the dynamic of our relationship and very probably complicate things for both of us. Maybe Makoto will, now that he had tasted the forbidden fruit, become more confident and realize there is a whole garden of much more desirable peaches out there, eager to be picked and eaten by a guy like him.

After all, a senpai has to step back once she did her part.

With a bittersweet taste in my mouth, I brushed the remains of sweat off Makoto’s prostrated body with a towel, feeling a pang of regret at the thought I might be using the privilege to indulge myself in him for the last time. It is something I knew could and would happen from the start, after all, but that didn’t make my heart any lighter.

I started to sit up, looking around for my clothes, when his hand caught mine.

“Are you going already?” he asked in a sleepy voice. He must have been dozing off under the rush of endorphins.

I didn’t immediately reply. My leaden chest just couldn’t squeeze anything out.

“Are you meeting someone?” Makoto’s voice from the shadows was suddenly completely awake, then he remembered himself. His head sank, “I am sorry, I have no right intruding.” His grip around my hand loosened but he didn’t let go.

“No one.” I managed to reply, than added after half a dozen heartbeats, “Only you.”

Makoto sat up and closer to me, saying in a low, collected voice, ”Then don’t go just yet.”

Our eyes met and I understood; he was troubled by the same thoughts, aware of the way things worked. Or didn’t work. What was right, what was wrong and what was in the shades of grey, not unlike the murky light that illuminated this little room. Little room for maneuvering through social conventions was all the room we had, really.

Of course he would know all this too, he was no kid.

I gave him an encouraging smile, accepting his kiss, consciously feeling each touch and caress as if it was the last one, the only one, living in the moment.

I raised my eyebrows at the rekindled interest in his groin which sported a solid erection and remembered what it was like to be that young and tireless. Letting the wings of that energy, of Makoto’s life force carry me, I sank back into his open arms.

We both still had things to learn, it seemed.

 


End file.
